Dear 6 year old me,
When the Adultlings are yelling at you to come inside because you “have spent too much time outside already” dig your heels in a little more. Make the adulting people in your life really mean it and yell at least 2 more times at you before you turn and walk very slowly back inside. You are someone that needs a place without walls and with real tree-made oxygen. It’s hard to imagine, but you will spend most of your life trapped indoors breathing other people’s breath. Breathe in as much as you can now.
Love, Me
Dear 9 year old me,
You will question your lineage a lot in this life especially when it comes to using your brain. For some reason, because you spend a lot of time in your brain thinking, and dreaming, and creating, drawing connections The Adultlings in your life assume your brain is full of fluff. When they say things like “for as much as you read you think you would be more/less: organized, not lose things, spacey. focused…” I want you to keep reading EVERYTHING even if you don’t finish everything. The Adultlings don’t know they are going to spend a great deal of their life sitting in a chair with nothing to talk about, nothing to think about but themselves, and make really stupid decisions because they didn’t see the point of learning new things.
Love, Me
Dear 12 year old me,
Demand better running shoes. This instinct to run is not going to leave you as you get older. Your feet and knees are going to take a beating so do more chores, save your pennies, and get better shoes. Running will save your life and mind time and time again. I need you to be ok with not running fast. Running is going to sustain you, so remember this feeling you have right now of running without tech gear, and devices that track, and running with your hair loose. Run steady.
Love, Me
Dear 17 year old me.
Just stop it. Everything you are doing is dumb, selfish, weak minded, and whiny. None of this it worth it. No, you can’t justify any of this because of how you were raised, or what was done or not done for you. You know God loves you and this just a small part of the plan to get you where you need to be. Suck it up and fly right. But keep writing the sappy poetry, the witty prose, the crappy narratives. You have something to say and you need to keep practicing how to say it.
Love, Me
Dear 19 year old me,
Yes, he is the one. Yes, he does love you for who you are now but each version of you to come. Yep, the good kid he is at 20 lasts forever as he evolves into a strong man. Yes, he continues to do laundry, be obsessed with soccer, and he is crazy smart, and incredibly sexy, and he isn’t needy, and he doesn’t whine, and he rarely raises his voice and takes care of himself and hundreds of others. He’s true blue. He is does not reflect some adultings in your life. Don’t mess this one up.
Love, Me
The Rabid Mime 